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Chapter Three: Auction Into Slavery

Fingers gripped her arms with bruising force as she was led through the narrow, long path and thick stone walls of the prison hall. Her light footsteps echoed in cadence with the boisterous clinking of chains and the loud bellows far beyond her range of sight to see. The dreariness of the halls matched her somber mood, for today was the day that Briseis was to be given to a new master. Terror consumed her but there was no point in whining and transcending into a "fit of hysterics". She was a proud Trojan Princess and no amount of fear would make her degrade or submit herself to such a manner.

Her hands shook out of nervous habit and scraped unwilling against the cold and rusted metal locked around her feeble wrists. Whatever her anxious habits be, Briseis hid them carefully. She would crumble before no one, she had foresworn to herself the night before. And she would try her damnedest to uphold that oath given. To break it would mean that she had failed herself and those kin to her. She would not dishonor them nor would she dishonor herself.

Despite the feelings of uneasiness and terror, Briseis kept her features and body carefully composed as she allowed herself to be escorted by her two prison guards of nearly a month. They were venturing into another part of the prison that she had never seen nor ever been to before. The path of the new hallway was just as long, without decorations or warmth, for it was made only of bare stone. The bellows got louder as they approached nearer and the glow of torch lights caught her eye. Two double doors, alike to the bath quarters, were at the end of the hall and it was adorned with lights, flowers, and had a special guard posted at its front.

The auction had already commenced and Briseis now realized that she was to be the last of the women auctioned off for the "special event". Before her grand entrance into the hall, Briseis had to be specially prepared for the occasion. Her hair was thoroughly washed and styled, half pinned in loose locks above her head to cascade in ringlets down her slender back, a new robe of fine burgundy adorned and hugged her supple form, and new sandals were replaced with her old battered ones upon her feet.

I might as well be cattle, Brisies thought glumly, her body moving of its own accord toward the dining area as if she no longer had control over it. She wished all of this was naught but a dream, a mere nightmare. But it never would be such, for it was as real as her life had been in Troy.

Gods help me, she pleaded, her eyes falling onto the eyes and faces that bore onto her as she continued forward. There were gazes of lust, appreciation, and envy and all of it made her feel disgusted.

She stopped at the front, her brown eyes falling upon the man that led the auction. He was burly and short for a man, but taller than Briseis herself and his eyes gazed at her appreciatively. "And now, dear guests, the last to be bought for the evening. Here is a treasure from far lands and one of our rarest beauties! Who will be willing to pay a large sum for what I offer here?"

Briseis stood in awkward silence and kept her fists balled beneath her robes. He had the same voice as the man that had branded her upon the first day of her arrival. He was a face to be remembered, for if she ever crossed paths with him once more, she had every intention of sending him back to Hades. He had a build that was rare and a hardened face that gave him a look of no older than twenty-five years. He was young, deceitful, and very ambitious. Even his stance as he spoke gave such characteristics away.

Briseis seethed with hatred toward him. He was the one who stole her from her home and family. The eyes that peered at her with lustful scrutiny made her intensely uncomfortable and so, she kept her gaze elsewhere. Her fate was no longer hers to control anymore. For now, she told herself quietly…

She was so lost in thoughts of home, family, vengeance, and escape that she scarcely paid attention to the bidding. The other girls had been sold off and now it was her turn. Would watching the exchange change the possibility of a fruitful outcome for her? No, it wouldn't and Briseis just stared past the crowd toward the tapestries blanketing the stone walls. Her life was not her own anymore.

"Sold!" Boomed the voice at her side, "to the Lord Creceden! Congratulations, my Lord, for a beautiful and pure maiden she is and a treasure to behold for any king!"

She had heard the words that she dreaded to hear and Briseis let her eyes wander hesitantly toward the voice that answered, "A king indeed and it is a treasure that I gladly accept!"

The man was young, with crisp, tanned skin and dark, unruly hair. He leered at her for moments at a time, as if he were a wolf eyeing up its prey. His eyes smiled darkly at her and his lips twisted slyly. Briseis shivered, in fear or disgust she did not know. The man was evil. And all she wanted to do was run.